


extinguish

by erzi



Category: ACCA13区監察課 | ACCA 13-ku Kansatsuka
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-27
Updated: 2017-08-27
Packaged: 2018-12-20 17:00:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11925264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erzi/pseuds/erzi
Summary: Jean's fingers grip Nino's shirt. The cotton fibers stick together, wet. Alarmed, sick, he pulls his hands back, turning them palm-up. Blood, as red as the bird on his uniform.





	extinguish

Two claps of thunder, smelling of gunpowder, and there's a body shoving Jean, collapsing onto the dust with him. He stirs, head throbbing from the hit of the fall, sees just who it is shielding him as if he's made of gold, and now his heart joins the pounding at his temples.

_Nino?!_ he cries, though not of his own accord. It slips from him like a wine glass carelessly held, consequently dropped. Shattered.

Jean's fingers grip Nino's shirt. The cotton fibers stick together, wet. Alarmed, sick, he pulls his hands back, turning them palm-up. Blood, as red as the bird on his uniform. Its metal bite mixes with the gunpowder swirling in the air, filling up Jean's nose and mouth. This lethal perfume sours with bile in his throat, burning it.

His hands seek Nino's back. They rest on him, feather-light. The only movement they feel is the trickling of blood, too much of it.

_Nino?_ he calls again, tinged with dread and fear.

He receives silence more deafening than the gunshots.

Trembling, he turns Nino over as carefully as he can, and whatever ounce of mental fortitude Jean had crumbles at the sight of him, his ever-present shadow, skin losing color from the flowing blood, the light in his eyes extinguished, gone, _dead;_ the difference between life and death cannot be so small that this is Nino's body but not _Nino_ anymore; it has to be grander than that, more tangible and final. What it can't be is a sacrifice, two bullets' worth, in a district he does not know.

He shuts his eyes, as if that will stop him from crying. A flash of lightning, white even through his lids, and Jean clutches Nino-but-not-Nino tighter to him, like maybe he can give him some of his own life that way. It's working, he thinks, because it gets harder to breathe. Shallow inhale, shallow exhale, growing shallower still, until it's no more.

Thunder booms so loudly it rattles Jean awake with a gasp.

His thoughts happen in quick succession: it sinks in that he is in his room in Badon, that a thunderstorm is shaking the sky, and that he is not alone. His arms are wrapped around someone whose shape he's familiar with, his face pressed against a chest. No wonder he couldn't breathe. The sleep ebbs from him, his mind clearing. How many times was that now that he relived the moment he very well could have lost Nino? He pulls back some so he can breathe better, his arms loosening.

"That nightmare again?"

He feels more than hears it. Nino's voice, throaty from sleep, is such a pleasant rumble. Jean revels in it before answering a tired yes. He looks up at Nino. As it's night, he can't see his face, only different values of shadows. But Jean doesn't need light to know the expression Nino has.

Nino's arm, relaxed over the covers, slides to Jean. He runs his fingers through Jean's hair. "I'm here," he says. There's no point to saying it, really; of course he's here. But thank God for it. "I'm going to be here for a long time. Getting shot is not how I'll go. I'm going to be really old, on a comfortable bed, surrounded by you and Lotta and our thirty adopted kids. Everyone gets a last word in. Then I close my eyes and that'll be that."

"Thirty kids?" Jean asks, mouth quivering into a smile.

"Is that too many? Twenty-nine, then."

They share a quiet laugh that blends in with the rain at the window. The storm has calmed quickly, as has Jean. He counts four of beats of his pulse before saying, "You'd still die before me."

Nino stops playing with his hair. "It's going to happen, Jean. I'm older."

"If we don't go out at the same time," Jean says, reaching for Nino's hand, "we lived our lives wrong." He interlaces their fingers. "I'm aware it's selfish. But I don't want you to leave me behind."

"It _is_ selfish," Nino says. "That's all I can agree with. Grief can be overcome. We're both testaments to that. I have ten years on you; I've experienced things you haven't yet. I don't want to rob you of that time. You have Lotta to think of, too; she'd be lonely with us both gone."

"If I were to die first, would you be saying the same?"

Nino hesitates. "No," he finally admits. "Guess we're both selfish."

"I think that's normal." Jean blinks deeply.

"Are you going to fall asleep holding my hand right to your face?"

"If you'll let me."

Nino chuckles, and Jean smiles. Of course he'll let him. "It can't possibly be comfortable."

"Think again," Jean says, squeezing Nino's hand, warm and very much there.

Nino leans forward, lightly kissing Jean's forehead. "That's so your mind makes up a good dream."

"Only for that reason?" Jean murmurs, eyes fluttering closed.

"And because I love you through and through."

He opens his eyes to meet Nino's. "I love you, too," he says, just as he did yesterday, just as he will tomorrow. He curls up against him and sleeps.

 

**Author's Note:**

> don't tell me jean would automatically be ok after seeing nino get shot... he's a level-headed guy but that shit would stay w/ him a while


End file.
